Departure
by BlueInked
Summary: Oneshot. One fusspot, one mummy's boy and one thief. Just how did they end up joining the quest in the first place?


A/N I don't really know what I'm doing here. Usually I'm in the giant transforming robots section. (If you came here expecting Defiance, sorry, chapter nine is going through editing) Anyway, this place looks like it needs more focusing on the individual Dwarves. Particularly the minor ones. And the brothers 'Ri went and inspired me, so here's one take on just how they left town.

And I made a reference to White steel somewhere, which was my attempt to sound like a weaponsmith. White is capitalised because I'm making it mean steel from the White Mountains. Bear in mind that I was developing world and characters as I went, so if anything doesn't make sense, do tell me. Please imagine this with Movie incarnations. Particularly Nori's wonderful starfish hair. (It's woven into his eyebrows. How awesome can you get?) I took inspiration from all the bios I could find, and the awesome Chronicles book. Let's hope this plot bunny leaves me alone now.

Comments, critique, anything and everything welcome!

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"But you just got here!" Nori, to his credit, didn't roll his eyes as he paused to ruffle through the cloaks. His own had very little of their family's purple woven through it. He resisted the urge to transfer the contents of the other pockets to his own bag. It was nice to have one place in the world where he hadn't 'borrowed' anything. Anything major, anyway. In recent times.

"I've been here for three months." Ori's timekeeping was very, very Dwarven. Long lifespans of set routines meant that three months became the blink of an eye. Particularly for his wispy-bearded, inexperienced younger brother, who probably needed to get out of their mother's house more often. Men had taught Nori to appreciate each day.

"Well… Well I'm coming with you!" There was just a note of a request in Ori's voice which undermined the statement.

"Fine." He had to leave home sometime. There was a long silence, and a part of Nori was a tiny bit disappointed that he had actually managed to scare his little brother off. Then a new set of boots shuffled slightly and the wind whistled in through the now open door. He almost bolted as he realised that the lack of noise was less of a that-didn't-work-what-do-I-do-now and more of an oh-dear-how-much-did-you-hear kind. Exactly when had he become so rusty that his elder brother could sneak up on him?

"Good evening to you too. What's going on?"

Nori shrugged on his cloak as he turned towards the silhouette in the doorway and smiled, that mischievous half smile that had always come directly before running like his life depended on it. Which it sometimes did. It seemed to irritate Dori. "I'm leaving."

"And I'm going with him. And don't try to stop me!" _Don't roll your eyes. Dori's staring at you. Don't roll your eyes._

The said grey eyes shifted between the two, at first as though Dori was trying to figure out which one was joking, and then taking on a different look that Nori disliked. The grey-haired dwarf closed the door carefully and stamped his boots as he came further inside.

"Where are we going, then? And have you lost your wits, starting a journey as the day ends?"

"I'm not scared! I can fi- Wait, what?"

"I asked where we're going. And Nori, please put my toolkit down." His eyes narrowed, but he knew better than to try acting innocent with his own brother. He set the wooden box back on the shelf next to the cloaks.

"_I_ am joining Thorin Oakenshield's quest. Company. Thing. He's going to Erebor, to-"

"I was in the room when Bera brought the news, too. We'll need ponies. A night's sleep. Supplies. Weapons." Ori's eyes widened at the last word. He tried to cover the sudden fear by slamming closed the drawing kit in his hands.

"I _know _that."

"Which perfectly explains why you're going without any of them." Nori picked up his weapon; a cross between a mace and a quarterstaff that had initials which didn't fit his name carved into the base, and raised an eyebrow. A pony would have been taken care of by the time he reached the road. Supplies could be acquired as he went. They both knew that. Dori sighed.

"We'll need at least two hours to pack. And there's no point leaving now, the light's almost gone." The middle brother leaned his mace back against the wall and stepped closer to Dori, voice low.

"I'm ready now. I'll scout out the road."

"Scout out the-? Nori…" Dori glanced past him, but judging by the squeak of leather on leather as a bag was forced closed, their brother was distracted. His voice lowered. "What did you take?"

"What makes you think I took something?"

"You never have a full pack." His elder brother's boot nudged the item in question. It was bulging. Nori shrugged and smiled.

"You just said we needed provisions." Dori glared at him and reached down. Faster than thought, the mace was in Nori's hand again and he used the end to flick the pack up. Dori only had time to blink before Nori had shouldered it. Three of Bera's throwing axes, two necklaces made by her father and a string of silver beard ornaments probably didn't fit his description of 'provisions'. Not to mention a very nice new knife. And some other things which weren't necessarily his. Dori could wither spring flowers with that glare, but long years of disapproval had rendered Nori immune.

"You realise you're dragging Ori into a quest which could well have no survivors, don't you?"

"Erebor quests never make it far past the Misty Mountains. They get tired, summer ends, they give up."

"Thorin Oakenshield does not seem like the type to _give up._" Nori shrugged again. They all said that. Even if Durin's blood kept true in this one, he would likely shed the members that weren't found useful. One less than honourable dwarf would not be missed. Nor would his respectively naïve and fussy brothers.

Faint shouts penetrated the wooden walls of the house, between the ringing of hammers that never really stopped in the Dwarven settlement. It was too small to be called a town, set at the base of the mountains. It had begun as a collection of the dwellings of Dwarves too young, old or tired to keep travelling around and grown slowly as craftspeople realised the impracticality of setting up their workshops anew with every move.

Nori clapped Dori on the shoulder with a grin. "First crossroads, go left. If Ori doesn't change his mind. If I don't find you on that road before midday tomorrow, I'm going on." He paused. "And give Bera my regards, they're good axes." With that, he pushed past.

Dori's hiss of "Bera's axe-? Please tell me you didn't-" followed him. Then an irritated sigh. "Take Mae. She's the only one who'll put up with you." Nori looked back, smiled again, and disappeared into the twilight. Dori knew that he wouldn't be seen on his way out of the settlement. He closed the door behind him to stop the draught and turned back to Ori, who had given up trying to close the bag and was now considering the contents. He had evidently just realised that he had never gone on a journey before and thus had no clue what he needed to take.

"Come on. I'll help you pack."

Outside the house, Nori merged with the shadows and retrieved another pack from beside the woodpile. He could see a shape stamping up the street which even in the fading light resembled a she-Dwarf roughly his age, braided hair streaming in the harsh wind. The legally appointed protectors of the law, called Gauntlets after the armour that distinguished them, trailed behind her.

"Nori! You thrice-cursed Elf-friend of a thief! WHERE ARE MY AXES?! And that knife is White steel! Do you KNOW how much that costs? I swear I'll-" She had a lovely singing voice. Sometimes.

He was about to slip around the back of the next house when Dori's incredulous voice floated from within the wooden walls.

"You were going to take _three_ sketchbooks to the Lonely Mountain?"

Nori rolled his eyes.


End file.
